


Legacy Starts Here

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [28]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Knows About Morgana's Magic (Merlin), Arthur's trying guys he really is, Canon Era, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Introspection, M/M, Magic Revealed, POV Arthur, Pining, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin, Protectiveness, only a lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23770954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Arthur really wants to get rid of the ban on magic. It's a barbaric law that's led to too many enemies, the slaughter of innocents, and the persecution of people that do not deserve it. He knows it's the right thing to do and he's pushing to get it done. There's just one problem.Merlin doesn't seem to want it.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 27
Kudos: 1113
Collections: Emrys is a mess





	Legacy Starts Here

**Author's Note:**

> look okay i'm here for oblivious!arthur as much as the next person but guys i can only tolerate so much
> 
> also???come on???

Fandom: Merlin (BBC)

Prompt: “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

* * *

Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.

Merlin’s a sorcerer, that much is obvious. Listen, that many branches and roots don’t just ‘conveniently’ show up out of nowhere to get in the way of bandit swords and axes. He’s pretty sure he’s supposed to have been assassinated at least three dozen times in the last month. And the knights don’t talk as quietly as they’d like to think.

So. Merlin’s a sorcerer and the majority—if not all—of his most trusted knights knows this.

But here’s the thing: Merlin is _Merlin._

Merlin’s a jumpy little shit who backtalks Arthur every chance he gets, trips over his own feet, can’t carry a full tray to save his life, and cries over the deaths of little animals in the forest. Merlin spends days in that tavern—even though at this point Arthur’s sure that’s just Gaius trying very poorly to cover for him which means _Gaius_ knows too—and occasionally spouts some incredible wisdom that sounds way too coherent coming out of Merlin’s mouth.

The two just don’t line up. Well, that’s not true. There’s one more thing about Merlin that Arthur can’t wrap his head around.

Merlin doesn’t like magic.

Every time Arthur proposes something about changing the law, that his father was mistaken about magic—given the number of things he’s realizing his father was off his rocker about, it’s a surprise it’s taken him this long to get to magic—Merlin shuts it down, a stern look on his face. It’s the worst expression Arthur’s ever seen Merlin make and at this point he’s wary of bringing it up again. He could go the rest of his life without seeing Merlin make that face ever again.

But why would Merlin hate magic? Surely the changing of the laws would be the very thing he’s been hoping for? It would put an end to this horrible fight with Morgana, or at the very least make some decent progress toward it, it would help right the wrongs Camelot has committed against innocent lives, it would do _so_ much.

But Merlin doesn’t like it.

Arthur looks up at his manservant from his desk. Merlin’s filled out since he started working here. He looks stronger, more confident. His movements are sure and fluid. He folds the sheets and straightens the pillows with the precision of a man handling a weapon.

_His hands are his weapons,_ Arthur thinks, _his hands and his words._

A worrying pit opens in Arthur’s chest. Does Merlin despise magic because he despises himself or does he despise himself because he despises magic? Arthur can’t bear the thought of either. One of them is true, he knows as much, he’s seen the way the knights tend to him when they think he isn’t looking. He’s seen the disapproving looks that Gwaine and Lancelot give him when he’s too rough with Merlin and the problem is he doesn’t know how to _fix_ it.

Repealing the ban is the only way he can think of trying to fix whatever’s wrong with Merlin but that won’t work because Merlin doesn’t like it.

Arthur sits back in his chair with a frown. Sure, it took him some time to not be angry at a sorcerer’s presence so close to the heart of Camelot, _his_ heart, but then he stopped and looked at what Merlin was doing and any anger dispelled into respect and pride. Merlin, all by himself, effectively placed a magical shield around Camelot, warning every possible doer of harm to _back off._

All that power, the power his father said corrupted any individual who so much as looked upon it, and it just made him kind.

He’s no fool, though, he’s sure many of Merlin’s protections have come with their own share of…messes. Perhaps those add to the weight Merlin tries to bear upon those skinny shoulders. Honestly, if he were any skinnier if he turned to the side Arthur’s not sure he’d be able to see him.

This train of thought doesn’t do much to alleviate the worry swirling in Arthur’s chest. Arthur knows he’s a king, and before that, a prince, and any sign of weakness would be swiftly capitalized upon. But he has knights, he has—well, _had—_ Morgana, he has Gwen. He has Merlin.

But who does Merlin have?

The knights, sure, but he’s not sure it’s enough. Merlin’s one of the bravest men Arthur’s ever known but every man needs someone to help share the load. He’s had to learn that for himself.

Maybe he can try that. Try and make Merlin understand that he just wants to help. That is the point of being a king, isn’t it? Helping your people? What’s the point of having all the power in the land if you don’t use it to help people in ways they cannot help themselves?

“Merlin?”

“What?”

“I need your help.”

“Well, now that is worrying,” Merlin says, turning to drop the last of the old sheets into the laundry basket, “you? Admitting you need help? The world must be ending.”

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes, “just because I don’t _need_ help very often doesn’t mean I don’t know how to ask for it.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“Merlin!”

Merlin raises his hands in surrender. “You’re the one who said you needed my help!”

“Not with that!”

“Oh,” Merlin says with the fakest expression of surprise Arthur’s ever seen. “I see.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, so you don’t want my help?”

“Merlin!”

It would’ve worked a lot better if they both weren’t trying not to laugh. Arthur waves Merlin over to stand on the other side of his desk. His smile drops a bit when Merlin doesn’t sit, instead choosing to clear away the dishes. But maybe that’s better, maybe if Merlin’s focused on something else he’ll be more receptive to this conversation.

“There’s a council meeting in two days.”

“Your clothes are all cleaned.”

Arthur’s mouth quirks up. Oh, Merlin. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”

“You’re not expecting me to mend all of your boots by then, are you?”

That startles a laugh out of him. Even with magic, that would be a daunting task. “No.”

“…speech?”

Arthur shakes his head. Grateful that the levity seems to have lightened Merlin’s spirits, he leans on the table.

“I want to propose a change to the laws and I need your help to figure out how to convince someone who I know doesn’t want to go for it.”

“Why’re you asking me?”

“Because I think you’re the one who’s got the answer.”

Merlin pauses, hands almost finished loading the tray to take it back. There’s a tightness to his shoulders that wasn’t there before and his hands are shaking a little bit.

“I’m not about to punish you for an opinion I ask for, Merlin,” Arthur says in a rush, folding his hands to show he’s not about to reach for a weapon, “it’s alright.”

“I’m not one for politics.”

Arthur groans, laying his head on his arms so he can keep watching Merlin. “Can’t say I blame you. Honestly, if people knew how much paperwork went with being king I’m not sure most of them would still want it.”

It makes Merlin smile a little. Arthur rocks his head to the side, resting. If this is the last chance he has to see Merlin smile for the rest of the day he’s damn well going to take advantage of it. Merlin catches him looking and he doesn’t stop, just smiles a little at the red flush at the tips of Merlin’s ears.

“So what is this incredibly important thing that I’m helping you with?”

Right. Arthur sits up.

“I want to repeal the ban against magic.”

Merlin’s hands drop the cup he’s holding and it lands on the floor with a sharp _clang._

“S-sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Um, why do you want to do this?”

Arthur lays it out, making sure to focus on how it’s about trying to right the wrongs he and others have done in the past, trying to outlaw the prejudice that’s been plaguing the land, stopping the hunt for innocents. He adds in the bit about Morgana and how he wants to help make sure she can come home. He’s not too proud to admit he wants his sister back.

Merlin doesn’t move, his face not quite that horrible expression yet. Good. Maybe this time it’ll work.

“And who is it that you have to convince?”

Arthur gets up, picking up the cup and placing it on the tray. “You.”

Merlin startles terribly, almost spilling the rest of the tray. “M-me? I’m not a council member! I’ve got no say!”

“Maybe not, but I can think of ways to convince pretty much every council member that this is the right thing to do. What I can’t figure out—“ Arthur places a steadying hand on Merlin’s shoulder— “is how to convince _you._ ”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this should be something you want, by all accounts, and yet, every time I bring it up, you always turn it down.” Arthur lowers his voice, wary that Merlin _already_ looks like he’s about to run and that won’t do at all. “I can’t figure out why.”

Merlin’s not making that face, but he looks scared. Arthur can’t tell which is worse.

“Why…why do you think this is something I want?”

“Because you’re a sorcerer.”

Scared is worse. Scared is definitely worse.

Merlin throws himself away from Arthur, shuffling toward the door and Arthur panics, striding to place himself between Merlin and the door only to realize that probably has the opposite effect—no it _definitely_ had the opposite effect because now Merlin’s huddled in the floor on his _knees_ and Arthur’s heart breaks. Merlin looks so _scared._

“Merlin? Merlin!”

Merlin won’t look at him. He takes a small step away from the door and crouches down, holding his hand out, silently asking for Merlin to trust him. Merlin doesn’t move.

“ _Please,_ Merlin—“ and oh how his father would be ashamed of him, on his knees, begging for a sorcerer— “look at me. I’m not angry, I’m not upset, please.”

The hint of fear that slips unbidden into the plea seems to do the trick. Merlin’s gaze rises to him and it burns. It twists its way into Arthur’s should with such _pain_ that Arthur wants it to stop. But he forces himself through it to purge the parts of him that waver. He _never_ wants to see anyone look this scared of him again. _Ever._

“Why aren’t you angry?” Merlin’s voice is horribly thin. “I’ve—I’ve lied to you.”

Arthur shakes his head. “I don’t care. And I seem to recall multiple times you told me you _did_ have magic and I didn’t believe you.”

His joke falls flat and Merlin’s still shaking.

“ _Mer_ lin, you’ve saved my life. More times than I can possibly imagine, I know. But not just with magic, you’ve—“

Arthur takes a deep breath, his hand still extended.

“You saved _me._ You stood by me when no one else would. You listened, you talked, you…you made things less lonely. I…”

Merlin’s less afraid now. The little bit of something other than fear surges into Arthur’s chest.

“I would not be here today if it weren’t for you. And I mean that in every possible way. If you have magic then everything my father told me was a lie. I have to try and make it right but I need _you_ to help me.”

He’s still pleading, trying to coax Merlin out of that frightening huddle. Arthur waits, painfully hoping, until Merlin’s cold hand reaches out tentatively and settles atop Arthur’s.

“…you’ve lost so much to magic,” Merlin mutters, looking at their hands in disbelief.

“I’ve lost so much to people who used magic,” Arthur corrects softly, “just as I’ve lost to people who use swords or poison.”

Merlin’s head shoots up, scrutinizing Arthur’s expression.

“I haven’t tried to ban swords, now have I?”

Merlin’s mouth smiles just a little and Arthur’s heart leaps. “You’d have to ban yourself too.”

“Ah. Yes. That’d be a bit counterproductive, wouldn’t it?”

It’s too easy to try and return to their normal banter. Merlin _laughs._ Arthur’s smile grows wider as Merlin’s fear starts to vanish.

“I don’t understand how you’re taking this so well.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Arthur admits, “I had a bit where I wasn’t so happy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Arthur squeezes the hand—how is it so cold?—in his. “It’s better this way, isn’t it?”

Merlin nods, limbs finally loosening. Arthur stands very slowly, making sure Merlin knows he’s not about to attack him, puling Merlin up with him.

“Have I convinced you?”

He waits anxiously for Merlin to nod, watching a giddy smile spread across his friend’s face.

“Yes. Oh, Arthur, this is more than I could’ve hoped for.”

Arthur catches Merlin in a tight hug, squeezing him around the middle and laughing when they almost overbalance.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you tell me on your own terms,” Arthur murmurs into Merlin’s neck, “but I wanted to make sure you knew it was alright.”

Merlin’s head shakes against Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“Good.” Arthur pulls away, keeping one hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Now, I’ve got a speech to write.”

“And I’ve got chores to finish.”

“You come straight back, yes?”

Merlin smiles and bumps his shoulder against Arthur’s. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“God forbid.”

He watches Merlin leave, a fond smile on his face. It’s only after he sits back down to start drafting the speech that he realizes the pit in his chest is replaced with something else heavy. It doesn’t hurt, not like the worry from before, but it’s there. It’s a pleasant ache.

Oh. Oh, wait.

No, he’s not in love with Merlin. Merlin’s just his good friend.

He’d know if he was in love with Merlin. Merlin’s a good man, but he’s still an idiot. It’s not like he’d been keeping track of how Merlin looks or watches him for hours on end. He doesn’t think about Merlin when he’s not there or worries about Merlin’s well-being more than necessary. And it’s certainly not like he goes out of his way to make sure Merlin’s happy or put his opinion above all others or anyth—

Hmm.

_I think I might be falling in love with you, Merlin. Oh, how I wish my father could see how far we’ve fallen._

And yet, as Arthur resumes his work with a bigger smile on his face, he can’t help but snicker at the image of his father’s expression at the two of them. They would’ve had so much _fun._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine.
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


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